


Despite or Because

by sp8ce



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, F/F, Kissing, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 10:57:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18893239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp8ce/pseuds/sp8ce
Summary: "She’s the only one who makes you feel inadequate, the only one who makes you wish you weren’t who you were with the past you had, that you were better. Good enough for her."





	Despite or Because

In retrospect, you think you’ve been enamoured by her since the second you laid eyes on her. She is a fiery mess in the sweetest way: red hair, red lips, and red blushing cheeks. She’s so beautiful, often you don’t really know what to do about it in your head because you’re so inadequate to it, your gawky self with your glasses and your tangle of black hair. She’s the only one who makes you feel inadequate, the only one who makes you wish you weren’t who you were with the past you had, that you were better. Good enough for her.

You think you fell in love with her somewhere along the way. She was one of the only people left who would talk to you willingly, albeit mostly through mutual “friends”, but nonetheless you argued back and forth. You had  _ something _ , and that something was biting and arguments and honestly you couldn’t tell if she were your friend or your enemy, but in some strange way you knew you loved her. Now you definitely do.

But you’re a bully. That’s what you’ve always been. It was encouraged from the time you were little by your mother, telling you that if you just fought back, if you weren’t such a wimp, if you weren’t if you weren’t if you weren’t.

And, the truth is, he really does annoy you. You can’t really figure out  _ why _ he gets  _ such  _ a reaction from you. It’s like everything he is is everything you wish you could express. Vulnerable. A wimp. Weak. Everything you cannot ever be. Everything you couldn’t be, even if you tried. So you push him down the hill when he’s not looking. Your mom had planted the idea in your head, actually. “ _ If he’s really as annoying as you say he is, break his bones,” “Push him down that hill you play your stupid games by,” “I’ll give you an example of what is not harsh enough for him _ .”

So you do. And you regret it, which means you’re weak. But that’s okay. It’s okay. He deserved it. Maybe you can be soft because you did it. Maybe you can be weak enough to feel remorse because you were strong enough to push him that time he was being especially annoying.

But she gets so angry at you. She stops talking to you, and so does your best friend, and both are losses you can’t take. And then she does something that you didn’t expect. 

She tells everyone around school all the horrible things you’ve done. You’ve already got a reputation, but she makes an ordeal of it, writing it on every whiteboard in red and even sound looping, “Vriska’s gonna break your femur’” on repeat for several minutes on the announcements. And while no one you know is talking to you, after his leg is broken because of you, they sure are talking  _ about _ you.

The worst part is, people are speaking  _ up _ . You suppose they have a right, but it’s haunting you. People talk in the halls and even confront you about things you did to them years ago. It’s incessant, and you can’t make it stop no matter what you do. You’re alone, haunted by the ghosts of your past.

You want to be her rival again, but she’s made your life hell, and you don’t know how to take it. You don’t know what to do. You love her, at least in the twisted up way that is all you know how to love. And that is in some sort of twisted hatred kind of love, but didn’t the two of you have  _ something _ ? 

So you confront her. You just mean to tell her that she’s a fucking horrible person, but somehow you’re mom’s voice is in your head, goading you, and instead of talking to her you give a solid right hook to the face. You’ve never physically attacked her like this before, and she’s surprised. So are the onlookers in the public library you’re in.

“ _ Vriska _ ?” she gives out. You turn away, fuming, red faced, wishing you could take it all back, your entire life. She grabs you hand as you go to leave. 

“What do you  _ want _ ?” you yell at her, getting a few “shh”s from people in the library. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” she returns, speaking quieter. You do have to give her that one. 

“Should I spread some horrible rumours about you? About how fucking crazy of a bitch you are?” you say, struggling to keep your voice down. You’ve got some irritated looks, but honestly, you can’t find the will to care. You turn to leave again and storm out of the library. She follows you, and something about that makes your heart warm. She’s so fucking beautiful.

“I thought we had something!” you yell at her, but this time you can’t keep the sadness out of your tone. You feel like your voice is going to break. You’re going to break. You can feel an onslaught of tears. God, are you ever weak. You’re weaker than Tavros. Okay, maybe you’re not. Luckily, you’re nowhere near  _ that _ pathetic. He still can’t even walk again. 

“You’re the one who started this!” she says. “I didn’t even say anything that wasn’t true!”

“You ruined my life!” You’re fighting back some tears. She looks at you like you’re a being a tad dramatic, but it’s true. You’re too haunted. You didn’t want any of this. You don’t want to feel bad about what you did. You don’t want to feel bad about feeling bad about what you did. It’s a cycle of remorse and weakness that you can’t take, and you just want it all to  _ stop. _

“Have you even apologised to him?” she asks, and you don’t know how to respond.

“I can’t,” you finally concede, choking on your words. “I can’t.”

“So what do you want from me?”

“I want to be your friend again.”

“The mighty Vriska wants to be my friend?” she says, nursing her a jaw for a moment. 

“Yes Aradia, because you got the best,” you say. “Can I just fucking kiss you?”

“What?” she seems really surprised, and you feel your gut twist. Bravery is good though; you have to be brave.

“You heard me,” you say, trying to keep up the facade that you were as strong as this. She looks like she’s considering it before she replies simply.

“No.”

“Welll... you really don’t know what you’re missing,” you respond, dragging out the “l”. You turn to walk away again, but she calls your name. You get that warm, almost  _ vulnerable, weak, bad  _ feeling again.

“Vriska, wait!” You turn to face her. “Follow me.” You nod, a little uncertain, and try to keep up with her. You love the way her hair bounces as she walks quickly and the way the sun hits it. You love the way she exists, the way she is who she is, the way her body curves and the way her lips look like they would be soft against yours. You love how angry she makes you because honestly you couldn’t accept anything but that.

She eventually walks past a gate and into a barn. You struggle to get over it unlike her getting through it, and you both climb up some stairs to the top of the barn. There’s a bunch of hay at one end a bunch of artifacts including magnifying glasses on the other. You’re a little out of breath when she says, “If I kiss you, it doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.”

You nod, and she comes towards you with a breathtaking smile on her face. You’re dazzled by her. You love the brown in her eyes and the way she takes your hand before kissing you, quite fiercely. You return with just above the same about of force and she ends up dragging you to the ground.

“I love you,” you say to her, and you know that it’s  _ bad weak pathetic wimpy loser _ , but you do it anyways. She either doesn’t hear you or pretends not to, and puts her hands on your breasts, feeling them while her lips are connected to yours. It’s very intense for you, and you want to remain calm and collected, but when her fingers press against your nipples you just can’t be. You don’t moan, but you can’t even concentrate on kissing her.

“I didn’t think you thought of me as a friend,” she says.

“I didn’t either,” you admit. “More like  _ something _ .” You suck your breath in dramatically as she breaks from talking to kiss your neck. You cup her breasts too and shimmy her nipple through her bra. She pulls back, and you relent.

“Does this mean we’re girlfriends?” she asks. “Or...”

“If you wanna be, I mean. You’re lucky enough because I’m..” you trail off because, honestly, her hand in your bra is rather distracting. 

“Girlfriends it is,” she said, and she twists your nipple. It rubs against the fabric of your bra as well, and you even moan out. She takes her hand away, and suddenly, more collected, though your brain is swimming with endorphins and you’re all too much wanting to kiss her more, she says something serious.

“Vriska, you have to know that I know that you feel bad about the things that you do.”  _ She knows your weakness. She knows your weak.  _ “I just wanted you to  _ see  _ it.”

“Is it obvious?” you ask, and you don’t know how you’ve let your guard down so much. Maybe it was the fact that her lips were on yours just a few moments ago.

“No. You seem like a cold, heartless bitch, just to be honest...”

“Good.”

“Why?”

“Means I’m not weak. Not unloveable and vulnerable and wimpy. Means I’m not a  _ loser _ .” You will yourself to shut up, but you won’t.

“Why? Because you feel remorse?”

“Yes!” and then you realise something. “You mean you wanted to fucking  _ kiss  _ me anyways. What is this? Pity? I don’t need pity.”

“Of course I would,” she says. “Listen, Vriska. I’ve known you for  _ years _ . Do you honestly think that I would think of it that way? If anything, I would want to kiss you because of that, not despite it.”

“That means you’re weak.”

“Whatever.” She smiles and laughs her little laugh. “If I were to love you, it would be because of the way you really don’t like any of that, right?” You nod miserably and confused. “Not despite.”

“Let’s just get back to kissing,” I say. She nods to that. It’s amazing what kissing can do to a mood. It’s amazing what the mood can do to the connection of weakness. It’s amazing how you can be soft under her hands and let yourself come undone. It’s amazing how you can feel remorse and regret and wish everything were different and feel even better because of it and because you were still here, with her hands on you.

Maybe you were a tad dramatic, and maybe you did jump to conclusions unnecessarily, but god,  _ did you love her. _

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted 2017-04-23


End file.
